


What Makes Her Come, and What Makes Her Stay?

by viklikesfic (v_angelique)



Category: Casino Royale RPF
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-30
Updated: 2007-10-30
Packaged: 2017-10-06 00:34:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v_angelique/pseuds/viklikesfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well, I couldn't quite bring myself to write something quite as happy-go-lucky as this song, which I was never a huge fan of, but I looked at the lyrics and decided that I could make it a bit more serious if I just focused on the "getting away from others" aspect.  I also was somewhat inspired by another song, Damien Rice's "The Professor and La Fille Dance," from which the title comes.  The characters are Daniel Craig, Eva Green, and Mads Mikkelsen, all actors in the film <i>Casino Royale</i>, along with a sort of cameo by Orlando Bloom as I needed a young pretty boy :-D  Ages adjusted as needed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Makes Her Come, and What Makes Her Stay?

"I should just… _know_ this shit, don't you think? I mean, I have a bloody PhD and she…"

"Is a twenty year old college student."

Daniel groaned and gave Mads a frustrated look, running his hand through his hair.

"What?" the philosophy professor asked, shrugging. "I only tell you the facts as they are."

"I know, and that's the problem."

Mads grinned.

"I say you do what you want to do. What do you want? To touch her, to kiss her, to run your hands through her hair?"

"You're not _helping_…"

"Then do it. Just be _careful._"

"Cheers. Because I couldn't have figured that out on my own."

 

"I almost wish I didn't have a choice."

"What sort of choice?"

She was lovely, but it was no surprise. She perched on one of the student desks in the classroom, and he had to remind himself that the door wasn't locked.

"The choice of whether to pursue you or not," he answered honestly. It was the first time he'd put it in blatant terms, and she laughed. She looked horribly adult.

"That choice, yes. But you cannot choose whether I follow."

"No…" he agreed.

She left the room.

 

"When did they start seeing each other? Why didn't you _tell_ me?"

"I didn't know," Mads said. "Who is this child, anyway?"

"His name is Orlando," Daniel replied. "And he's… bloody beautiful."

"Well… fuck."

"Aye."

"What do you do now?"

"Nothing, obviously. He's only fucking her, anyway. I mean, that's it."

"How do you know?"

"I can see it between them."

"Intuitive."

"I always have been."

"How do you know she's not the one fucking him?" Mads asked with an eyebrow raised. Daniel sighed and pressed his head against the window. In the courtyard, Eva and Orlando kissed, completely oblivious.

 

"I should _understand_ these things. I have a PhD in psychology."

"And one in literature, too," Mads added cheerily.

"You aren't helping."

"I am not a helpful sort of man."

"I can see that."

"He's twenty one years old. He's cute, certainly, but…"

"Why don't _you_ fuck him, then?"

"Oh, I am having too much fun with this to dispose of your little problem for you."

"Brilliant."

Mads laughed. "Please, Daniel. Take my advice."

"But how do I…?"

"Offer to take her away. Somewhere no one knows who you are."

"What if she says no?"

"No," Mads countered. "The question you should ask yourself is, what if she says yes?"

 

The night was dark, and it felt very illicit. They drove south, started shortly after sunset and just kept going. He didn't have any specific plans – maybe a cottage somewhere, on the coast? – but he kept on driving, and eventually they were speeding under the Channel, emerging in Eva's home country and continuing to drive. It was midnight when they reached the village in Normandy and found an out-of-the-way bed and breakfast. It was the off-season, and there was a very nice room available.

"Why did you bring me here?" Eva asked, standing on the balcony and smoking a cigarette.

"Here, specifically, or why did I ask you to come with me?"

"Oh, well I know _that_," she said with a teasing smile. "You are a man. I meant here, France. You think French women are more easily seduced at home?"

Daniel laughed and shook his head, taking a cigarette when she offered him one and leaning in so that she could light it. "I didn't think about it," he replied out of the corner of his mouth.

"Unusual, for you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Eva smiled and looked out beyond the balcony, one hand on the railing. "You're always thinking… analysing… it's easy to see when you're not quite there."

"Really? I didn't realise I was so easy to read."

Eva shrugged. "Recently, yes. You've been watching Orlando and I. If I were less innocent I'd be afraid of you."

Daniel frowned and took another drag to give himself time to think. "We don't have to…"

"I know we don't."

"You and Orlando, you're…"

"He's my boyfriend, yes. This is all right. Once, for you."

He frowned. "Why not for you?"

"Because I am young and I am beautiful," she said with a grin. "Do you want this or do you not?"

"I want this," he said simply, the confession stark against the night air.

"Then why are we standing on the balcony?" she asked, her smile teasing this time.

He frowned again and then put out his cigarette, sliding the door open after she followed suit and letting her precede him inside.

"What do you like?" he asked as he stripped off his jacket.

"The usual things," she said, laughing as she let her dress fall in a puddle at her feet. He looked at her black lace bra and knickers, immensely glad that they weren't white and innocent, so he wouldn't feel quite so much like a 21st-century Humbert.

"Come here," he requested, and she stepped forward willingly, but there was no emotion in her eyes. It bothered him, so he put his hands on her slim waist and kissed her, trying to draw passion out of the full lips, stained blood red. Her response was calculated, not particularly enthusiastic, so he kissed harder, almost angrily, and backed her against a wall. He slipped his hand between her legs, pressed up against the general vicinity of her clitoris with the heel of his hand and curled his fingers against the rest of her cunt, feeling how wet her knickers were and satisfied, at least, with that.

She scratched his arm with long nails and he growled, using his lips and teeth to bruise her, pushing his hand harder against her and scraping one fingertip in straight line, dipping inside her and pushing through the moist folds with the expensive fabric as a glove.

She hissed and pulled her mouth away, sunk her teeth into the junction of neck and shoulder through his crisp linen shirt. When she finished, he returned the favour, biting one of her breasts without a prelude or a warning, his eyes locked on hers. She didn't look away, just kept staring and pushed at the back of his head, encouraging him to go harder.

"What do you want?" he asked after he'd raised a bruise to the skin.

"What do _you_ want?" she countered. "To mark me?"

Daniel frowned at her tone. "I want to…" _Have you._ "Make love to you."

She laughed and shook her head.

"Eva…"

"It's not 'Miss Green' anymore?"

"This isn't class."

"No."

He frowned and stepped backwards. He was almost unsure whether he wanted this, but there she was, gorgeous and dressed in her lingerie and her stockings, and his dick was undeniably hard.

"Have a seat," she suggested, and he backed up further until the backs of his knees hit the bed.

She followed until she stood between his legs, and she took his cock out and rubbed it between her palms, watching him with a very matter-of-fact look on her face. His fingers were still slightly moist and he rubbed them together, raising them to his lips and tasting with his eyes still on hers. She smiled and dropped to her knees.

"Wait," he said, frowning. "Don't…"

"You want to fuck me," she said, matter-of-factly.

"I want to make love to you," he repeated.

"Take what you can get, Professor," she said, harshly. "You may fuck me."

Daniel sighed and nodded. Eva laughed and stripped off the rest of the way, lying back on the bed instead of returning to her knees. "You make it seem such a chore."

"It's not. It's just…"

"Two people fucking, Monsieur le professeur. You are the expert in psychology; is that really so difficult?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Then fuck me."

So Daniel continued, removed his clothes and kissed her body for as long as she'd let him, and then sunk into her, working quickly towards climax, hissing at her nails on his back and her little feminine moans. He was only a man, after all. Miles away from home, and if he didn't have permission to love her, at least he could conquer. At least, for a night, he could possess.

 

"Well?" Mads asked, lounging in Daniel's office doorway Monday afternoon. "How was it?"

"Wonderful," Daniel admitted with a sigh.

"You don't _look_ like it was wonderful."

"The copulation was. Why wouldn't it be? I put my prick inside her, I brought her to orgasm, all the composite parts were there."

"But?"

"I… think I lost some perspective."

"How so?"

"I thought I was saving her."

"And you weren't?"

"I was intruding," Daniel admitted. "No better than any other man, I suppose."

"No," Mads agreed. "But you are human."

"I've done this too many times," Daniel sighed, rubbing the heel of his hand over his eyes.

"Done what?" Mads asked.

"Fallen for them."

Mads laughed. "Who, women?"

"Yes."

"I don't know that I can help you there, my friend."

"No," Daniel agreed, sighing and closing the shades, letting the lovers in the courtyard enjoy the afternoon in peace for once. "I don't think anyone can."


End file.
